


Five, Amelia

by LeeMorrigan



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: Amelia - Freeform, Amelia/Billy, Billy and Amelia, F/M, Five and Four, Five backstory, Five has a name, Five is tougher than she looks, Five's backstory, Five's recruitment, Four Five and Six, Four and Five, Four has a name, Four is a good teacher, Gen, How One found Five, Seven and One look after Four, Six and Five learning to climb with Four, billy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: Five's story. The doctor, the daughter, the recently and secretly not really deceased young woman who joined a group of do-gooders who call themselves Ghosts. How did One find her, why her, why did she say 'yes' to his offer, how did they fake her death, how did she get close with Four and Six, why doesn't she stand up to One about his 'anyone that falls behind is left behind' rule, and other questions that came up when I was watching, are answered by my imagination.
Relationships: Billy | Four & One (6 Underground), Billy | Four & Seven | Blaine (6 Underground), Five | Amelia & Six (6 Underground), Five | Amelia/Four | Billy (6 Underground), One & Five | Amelia (6 Underground), Three | Javier/Two | Camille (6 Underground), Wally (6 undergound)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 92





	1. Five Had a Name

**Author's Note:**

> Triggers: Okay if you saw the movie- I won't be going near their gore, though I will make mention of injuries and them being treated, Amelia/Five was a doctor so she does mention things she's seen as a doctor (she mentions a colleague who took part in an abortion that was off the books, she says how the patients at the ritzy place she works are mostly there to cover up drug abuse issues, too much cosmetic surgery, etc.) as well as a death by cancer, hostility in the workplace, drunken men talking too much, she mentions racist/sexist stuff that has been said to her, explains why no one will miss her when she's gone, discusses walking home alone at night.  
> ....There will be cursing, which I normally don't write, but it is hard to write fanfic of anything with Ryan Reynolds's characters that doesn't include a few curse words. Sorry.
> 
> As far as the Four/Five pairing, I didn't start out to write that, I was just following my Muse, but she got hijacked by Aphrodite so yeah. The good ship Four/Five sailed during the writing of this fic.

When Five was Amelia

Amelia looked in the mirror, double checking everything. An ingrained habit after years of attending all the best schools her father’s money could lock her away in.

Hair: _Perfect_.  
Makeup: _Perfect_.  
Clothes: _Perfect_.  
Mask: _Perfect_.

She then checked, again, making sure her mom’s cross was hanging at her neck, carefully tucked behind her top. Every day, almost hourly she would guess, she reached to reassure herself it was still there. Just like her mom had been, always there, quiet and steady. One more check in the mirror to make sure there were no terrible wrinkles or anything not quite zipped all the way, and then she grabbed her purse, keys, and a smoothie.

Amelia was now ready for another day at the hospital. The fanciest, most elite hospital in Los Angelos. She had been hired, she thought, because she was the top of her class back at NYU and then again in Med school. Only the best was expected by her father, which he made clear even long-distance.

To her surprise, on her first day she learned that her father had made a call to suggest she be hired over another surgeon. Her boss also made no secret of the fact her competition had almost been exclusively male and white, while she ticked off two minority boxes for them in the HR department. He had not said that in the official meeting when he took her on a tour and introduced her to her new colleagues. He informed her at a New Year’s party, a month later, after he had imbibed in a few too many shots. Two of her male coworkers, fellow surgeons, had laughed along as they drunkenly complimented her on out-minority-ing the other doctors.

She had been very tempted to leave. There were plenty of other places who needed surgeons. Sometimes she even thought how delightfully spiteful it would be to send her father a business card for her working in a free clinic someplace that normally couldn’t afford someone with half her background. However, her very next thought would be the ever-growing stack of bills for her mother’s medical care.

Elaina Armaz had tried to hide her illness from everyone for almost a year, denying the growth that was draining the life from her every day. If Amelia had been living closer, she might have noticed sooner. She hoped she would have. As it was, she found a bill her mother had not gotten around to hiding. That was how she learned her mother had lung cancer. End stage, no hope, palliative care only. She had broken straight down onto the floor when she read the bill and realized what it meant. Her mom found her on the kitchen floor, crying hysterically and shaking.

Her mom held her for hours. Hugging Amelia and apologizing for the fact she wouldn’t be there to hold Amelia’s children someday, that she would never see her marry, or be able to see her through so many of the adventures she was sure life had in store for her daughter. Elaina may have been a maid with a thick accent and a love of the old customs of Guatemala but she had always been sure Amelia was destined for great adventures, ones Elaina never would have dreamed for herself. That had always broken Amelia’s heart.

Now, sitting in the car as she headed for work, Amelia wondered why she was still at the hospital in too hot, too sticky, too wealthy L.A. She nolonger had to worry about making sure her mom had the best, round-the-clock care. She took a shuddering breath as she rubbed the thin gold cross just under her bright red blouse. It had been three months and the ache was not getting any easier to breathe through.

Amelia had been a good daughter, she took her mama back home to Guatemala to be buried with her family. No one there recognized Amelia. Apparently, she took after The Father’s Side, according to her uncles and one cousin. Her aunts wouldn’t even speak to her. They all took one look at her when she got off the bus and turned away from her. The priest had been a bit more kind, explaining that the Arnaz family believed their daughter had been stolen by her fancy American, only to be misused and thrown away in favor of a leggy blonde with a few less wrinkles and a lot more privilege in her background. Amelia, looking like her father’s side of the family and arriving in nicer clothes with her M.D. at the end of her name, had been far too much like her father. He was also a doctor, wore nice things, spoke with an American accent, was not someone they knew well. As soon as the funeral was over, Amelia had been on a plane back to New York. She stayed there for a week, in her old bedroom, at her mom’s little apartment. The neighbor, an elderly woman with a thick, Italian accent, came over once a day to check on her and make sure she had eaten something. She even insisted on seeing the dirty dishes to make sure Amelia wasn’t faking it. Her last night before she left for L.A., her mom’s neighbors all showed up, each with a tubberware container with some kind of dessert that didn’t need refrigeration. All wished her well, hugged her, and told her to eat cause she looked too thin and not to hesitate to call them if she needed help with her mom’s things or a renter for the apartment.

Which made L.A. seem all the more cold and colorless by comparison. Everyone here seemed so…fake. She almost laughed to herself. Tinsel town being full of people pretending to be someone else- what a novel concept. And tonight she would have to put in her own performance. Two doctors, both who had relatives at the hospital and sat in high ranking seats, were getting married to each other in a few days. Of course, the hospital was throwing them a party tonight. After she saw to her patients, did some surgery, and crammed a couple meals in, she was expected to go home, change, come back, and make chit-chat with the other doctors, with a present in hand for the couple, and probably to make some cliché toast at some point with the stinking champagne. Amelia wanted to vomit. It was such a show. A stupid one. No one really cared about the two doctors, their happiness, or the romance being cemented in ceremony. They cared about looking good while offering well-wishes and expensive gifts the couple didn’t really need.

“Dr.Armaz? You alright?”

Barney, the ticket man in the booth at the Doctor’s Only parking garage. He was probably her favorite person at the hospital, besides Mr.Alverez who cleaned the nurses’ stations on the night shift. Barney was in his late 70s with neatly trimmed white hair, a thick mustache, and kind, soft green eyes.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Off on my own planet today, Barney.”

“No worries, Dr.Armaz. Just don’t want to do too much of that behind the wheel. Especially with all these crazy drivers, all on their phones, taking selfies for Instacram.”

She smiled, not correcting him on the name of the social media platform.

“So true, Barney. Had to sew one of those back together yesterday.”

He shook his wise old head, letting out a sigh only someone of his age could manage without earning a laugh.

“Well, you take care and have a blessed day, Dr.Armaz. And don’t forget to eat something good. Can’t go thinkin’ about how to patch people back together on an empty stomach.”

She smiled up at him as he handed her back her card.

“Thank you, Barney. You make sure to eat something good, too.”

He smiled with a wave as she pulled through. Honestly, she figured if she ever did quit, he and Mr.Alverez were the only ones she would miss. Banishing such thoughts, Amelia took a long breath and made her way to her designated parking slot. Between a new European thing she didn’t recognize and an antique Porcha, she slid her neon orange electric car into place and shut it down.

Ten minutes later, she was walking into the morning meeting and to find a spot. The only available slot was next to Dr.Franks. She sighed. It wasn’t worth the effort to pretend she could stand the man. If you could call him a man. Last year, she had walked in to find him fixing a medical chart to make sure no one would know a senator’s daughter had been in to have an abortion. Not an hour after her discovery, Dr.Franks had walked into her office with the hospital’s lawyer, explaining the party line to her about keeping the Senator happy and keeping his and his daughter’s names out of the rag mags because he didn’t want people to know how bad things were at home for his daughter. Amelia had checked in on the girl, once they left, Googling the family. The daughter had been 19, living at home, and ‘taking a break from school due to some undisclosed health issues with rumors circulating that she had kidney problems’.

Ever since, Amelia had watched Dr.Franks much more closely. Being a trauma surgeon, she did not generally interact with a gynecological doctor. But after the whole thing with the Senator’s daughter, Amelia listened to the nurses and orderlies as they talked. Dr.Franks had a reputation for talking his patients into needless procedures, he got them to get loads of tests, and he scared them out of second opinions. He was a bully and con-man, in her opinion, and not anything like what a Doctor was supposed to be.

“Dr.Armaz?”

She looked up from her seat to Dr.Albin, more of an office manager these days than a physician. He had white hair and a toothy grin, paired with suits cut far too youthfully for his saggy frame.

“Dr.Armaz, are you with us?”

The more dramatic part of her wanted to stand, say ‘No’, and walk out to some defiant, power ballad. Her sensible side was dominant, however.

“Yes. I was just doing some figuring, sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about figures, honey. That what we have bean counters for!”

She made sure not to show her shiver of discomfort at his term. She had always hated being called ‘honey’ under almost any circumstance.

“Well, that’s about it for today’s meeting folks. Don’t forget the party tonight. It’s my niece, so I expect short toasts and shiny presents. Don’t be late!”, he added with another toothy grin. Amelia gave a polite nod, then got up and made a break for the exit.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Amelia pulled at her sleeves. She had taken a car to the party, not wishing to walk through the parking garage at night with all her buzzed and drunk coworkers following along or making out in the shadows around her. As such, she hadn’t bothered with a wrap or jacket, just her phone in her purse, with her least favorite gold heels and black dress with gold accents that shimmered as she walked. It was beautiful and not uncomfortable to move around in, unlike most of what she wore to parties.

Now, as she walked down the street to try to catch a cab since her phone was too dead to use her car-service’s app, she was regretting her choices. Clothing, shoes, phone brand, evening plans, jobs, careers, and even country at the moment. There had been a job offer to a place in Italy. She should have taken it, left her father’s legacy in the dust at LAX.

“Hey lady, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?”, a man slurred as he leaned against the door of the office building she passed.

Before she could react, another, taller man came to stand beside her. Well dressed, he had trimmed hair and a beard to match, dark eyes, and a way of standing that was meant to make people step back and take notice. She would guess maybe some military training, with that posture and hairstyle. He either came from money or had lucked into it sometime in adulthood, based on the jacket and shoes.

“Sleep it off, Gordon Gecko.”

Turning to her, he offered an arm.

“Getting away from Dr.Franks and his horde?”

“How did you know where I was coming from?”

“Oh, well, I’ve been watching you for a while. Wow, that sounded even creepier out loud. Let me explain. Dr.Franks, gynecologist, used to be a plastic surgeon specializing in female breast enhancement. Nearly killed a patient about…ten years ago? Yeah, well he is well connected, both by marriage and blood, so his daddy made it go away with some money and getting Dr.Franks to move to LA and get this job here, with a new specialty and only minimal re-training. Amazing what enough money and sleaze can do, am I right? Well, anyway,”, he continued as he walked alongside Amelia. “Dr.Franks was ripe for the plucking to get him to dance to his master’s tune. Pretty much the whole group there outside the ER and Trauma people, are here for political stuff, gaming for power and all that, like some kind of surgical GAME OF THRONES rip-off. But you, you’re not like them are you, Dr.Armaz?”

She arched an eyebrow up at him while continuing to walk at full steam trying to give him the hint. If she were in a more crowded area, she might have told him off. Alone, this late, on a mostly empty street, she was playing it safe for now. Also, he weirdly did not give her a bad vibe. He seemed more like one of those people who were so smart that they never quite learned how normal people interacted, so they came out like hyper-active Vulcan Academy drop outs.

“What do you want?”, she asked.

“You. If you’re interested. Wow, again, creepier out loud than it sounded in my head. Okay, so I run a group. You’d be our latest recruit. We fix things. Actually fix them, not just sit back and talk about it, throw some money at it, get our pictures in the paper, and move onto the newest charitable craze on Twitter. We take out dictators and mobsters and slave traders and monsters, without worrying about politics or legalities. We get in, take out the bad guy, get out, move on. But this is a hazardous job, as you might expect. This is why we need you. See, we can’t just hit up your local ER and wave our insurance cards. We don’t exist anymore. We don’t have social security numbers, driver’s licenses, names, families, real jobs, permanent addresses. Things that administrators and billing people get very pesky about when you try to get help from medical people.”

“Why does this concern me?”

“Because you’re different. You volunteered with people who really made a difference, not just a show.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Amelia Armaz, daughter of Elaina Armaz- maid, Guatemalan immigrant, Catholic, by all accounts a very good woman, deceased due to lung cancer, you took her home to bury her. Father- Dr.Isaac Arvon, former New Yorker turned Carolinian, filthy rich, womanizer, alcoholic, absentee father who had a lawyer cut a check every month to pay for your expensive schooling and a car to drive you, _total prick_. You graduated top of your class from both NYU and the med school, got hired here straight out of training, kept your head down and mouth shut to make sure you could take care of your mom, who you flew home as often as possible to spend time with and whom you called nearly every night to talk to for a few minutes. Do you believe I know you now?”

“You’re a stalker.”

She backhanded him with her purse. He stood there for a second, letting out a long sigh.

“Sorry, yeah. I didn’t do that right. I’ve never been good at the whole Recruitment Poster thing, I’m not Uncle Sam. Alright, I look into people. People who spark my curiosity. Most of the time, I figure out they are normal, boring people who had a moment of being cool or brilliant or thoughtful. A flash in the pan. Some people though, they intrigue me more and more. And rarely, one of those people will really make me sit up and take notice. You made that cut, Dr.Armaz. You’re someone who wants, _desperately,_ to make a difference and to… how should I put it, live outside the lines, not always have to color inside of them. I’m offering you that chance, Dr.Arnaz.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Patch up my team, travel with us- since we’d never know when we’d need you, make sure we’re up to date on our shots, keep track of old injuries to know if I need to be worried someone can’t do the job anymore or for a short while, help me sometimes with planning or being a get-away driver maybe.”

“I meant what would I have to do to sign up?”

“Die.”

“WHAT?”

“We’re ghosts, we don’t exist anymore. All of us faked our deaths and left out old lives behind us.”

Crazily enough, she found herself standing there, nodding.

“Makes sense, in an insane way.”

He nodded.

“There’s no way to do what we want to do, if we’ve still got ties to our old lives, our old selves. We have to be apart from it all. We’re outside the law, we don’t answer to a government, we have no citizenship, no boundaries, just some very simple rules.”

“Which are?”

“No contact with your old life- no going to places you used to frequent, no contacting old boyfriends, no hitting up your high school reunion, no dinner at Grandma’s, no stalking exes on Facebook, no Facebook. No relationships. No names. No ties. We leave no traces, have no connections.”

“How long do I have to think about it?”

“I’ll find you, after lunch. If you want to join up, we’ll talk. If you don’t… I’ll just walk away.”

She nodded, about to ask his name as a cab pulled up.

“Here you go, this guy should get you home safely. Goodnight, Dr.Armaz.”

“Thank you, Mister?”

“One.”

“Right.”, she said somewhat sarcastically as she slid into the backseat of the cab.

A month later, Dr.Armaz died in an accident while on vacation in Spain. Barney, whom she saw her last day before she left, was retiring and would be unaware of her demise. Mr.Alverez, as she arranged, would be working in a nice hospital closer to where he and his wife lived with their granddaughter. He would probably never hear about her death either. Amelia didn’t want to hurt either of those sweet old men, and no one in her life would have noticed them being gone except her, so she doubted it was breaking one of her new rules.

Dr.Amelia Armaz slid her ID, a final will and testament for the team in case she died for real, a card with her finger prints and medical records, and her mother’s cross all into a lock box. One slid it into place and put the lock on, closing it to secure her old life.

“Well, Five, welcome to the first day of your afterlife.”

She slid a hand over the front of the box.

“Wish I could have kept my cross.”

“No ties.”

“I know, One. I wasn’t arguing. I was wishing out loud. Get used to it.”

He nodded. She realized he intended for her to leave first. There was no way he was risking her picking the lock and getting her necklace back.

“Now what? Eat? Have a monthly meeting?”

“I was thinking Target Practice. Four already volunteered to teach you some basics. I would have Two do it, but she scares the crap out of people so Four might be a little less intimidating. He talks a lot, and fast. If he annoys you, just smack him. We don’t have an HR person to yell at you for it.”

She nodded, then turned and walked out. Dr.Amelia Armaz was dead in Spain, never to be seen or heard from again. Five was the Ghost Team medic, and would never have to deal with Dr.Arvon, hospital politics, or anything like that ever again. Now, she would go on those adventures that Elaina Armaz always dreamed of for Amelia.


	2. Team Building Exercises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four takes Six and Five for their first climb outside a gym. One isn't happy about it but hey, it's a team building exercise. While taking a break at the top, Five considers a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: No one dies, but someone does have a small, injury-free accident while climbing and gets to hang upside down for a minute. Vague foreshadowing of Six's fate.
> 
> There is some minor swearing, mostly from Four and One.

Five – Ramping up for the First Op

“So where are you busy beavers going?”, One asked with a Steford-Wife sounding tone to his voice.

Four turned around, arms full of climbing gear, cheeky grin in place.

“Climbing.”

“Climbing? As in risking your necks a couple days before I need you to risk them in the name of saving the world?”

“Relax, grandpa. It’s uh, what do you call it? Team building exercise. Trust falls, treasure hunts, all that jazz American execs like to make their underlings do on business trips so they can write it off and laugh their asses off at the same time.”

Five came around the back of the van they were using, putting a box into the back end. Her hair was in a simple ponytail, a sleeveless workout shirt and rugged yoga pants with a pair of good climbing shoes. She looked nothing like the doctor she had been a couple months ago.

“One, relax. We’ll be back this evening.”

Six ran up, his own equipment slung over one shoulder. He was not as put together in appearance as Five, though he was far more frat-boy looking than Four could ever achieve. Right down to the bottle in his hand that looked a lot like a beer.

“Oh, drinking and climbing. What could go wrong?”, One quipped.

Four looked, rolling his eyes as he walked off. Five yanked the bottle from Six’s hand and poured it out while giving him a Look. Six shuffled his feet a bit, looking down guiltily. He was aware he had done wrong.

“Won’t happen again, Five. I promise.”

“Yeah, well if it does, I’mma let Two kick your ass for me.”, Four yelled from the driver’s side door as he opened it to get in.

Without looking at them, Five closed up the back of the van and moved for the passenger side, leaving Six and One awkwardly standing behind the van.

“Wanna come with?”

“Hell no.”, One shook his head as he walked off.

“Don’t get dead.”, he added over his shoulder.

Six smiled, then cheerfully moved up to the shotgun seat. Five smiled up at him through the closed window. He sighed.

“Fine. Back seat is good.”

He walked back and went for the door, only to find it locked. He tried it again. Still locked. Six looked up to see Four’s grinning face through the side window as the man waved.

“Not cool, dude. Not cool.”

He heard the button and tried again. Once he was inside, Six flipped Four off.

“Everybody ready?”

Four didn’t wait for an answer before peeling off, leaving waves of flying rocks in their wake. The crazy man laughed while Six panicked. Five smiled slightly, amused by their antics. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to have fun.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~

They had been climbing for almost two hours when they got to the halfway point of their current cliff face. Four started them, two weeks ago, in a small gym with a rock wall. He claimed he didn’t want One to kill him when one of them died climbing between missions. They had started with a smaller, angled cliff face that was almost crawling rather than climbing. This rockface, however, was much taller and a straight fall down to earth.

“Remind me, why did I agree to this?”, Six asked as he stopped to catch his breath and shake out his fingers.

“Never know when you might need to climb out a window to escape or to hide. Wouldn’t want to die cause you didn’t have the endurance for it.”

Six nodded.

“Makes sense. I hate it, but it makes sense.”

“I love it!”, Five chimed in as she make a short sideways leap to get closer to where Four waited.

Looking up, she saw Four smiling back at her. He gave her a quick ‘Thumbs Up’ before moving to the next outcropping. He did not expect them to leap like he did, and had taught them how to slowly come across. Five appreciated Four’s patience. It was so unlike One, who expected them to adapt to this new life in a matter of days and for them to all acclimate to life as ghosts without losing the humanity he recruited them for. Four, on the other hand, did not expect his own insane levels to be met or matched by anyone else on the team. Not even from Two.

Five checked her grip, then began sliding over in the same direction Four had gone. Everything had been wonderful. The views, the weather, the company, and the challenge. She caught herself not-thinking at a few points. Her mind had been totally in the moment. She had not been worrying about the upcoming mission, her old life, what her mom would think, if One was crazy, what the next year would look like, or who the next person One might pick out for them would be like. Instead, she only thought about her grip, that she wanted a drink, and that the sun felt incredible on her stiff shoulders. She was still adjusting to her new mattress.

A scream drew her attention. Then she saw it, Six was upside down. His ropes were all that had saved him, as Four insisted they wear full rigging since neither she or Six were experienced climbers. To her right, Four was already moving downward and adding a clamp to help hold his weight. He must have been worried about having to haul Six up.

“WHATDOIDO? WHATDOIDO?”, Six panicked loudly.

“Just hold tight. I’m coming to you.”, Four tried to reassure him.

“What do I do?”, she asked.

Four looked between her and Six for a moment, then kept moving to Six.

“Hold there. If we need, you can add another clip to hold Six’s weight.”

“HELP!”, Six shouted.

“I’m coming, Six.”

Four got to his side, but every time he reached for the wheel man, Six was freaking out too much to get a good hold of him. Four was ready to try to slap him like they did in all the disaster movies. It had worked for him before with panicked partners.

“Six, shut up and stop panicking!”, Five ordered in an authoritative tone.

Four looked, shocked, as Six went still and quiet. Looking back up, he saw Five carefully pressed to the wall so she could look down between her knees to keep an eye on the two of them.

“Six, now you’re gonna need to take a deep breath and lower your legs.”

“But,”, she interrupted him, “NO BUTTS.”

Four reached out, taking hold of the other man’s ankle and guiding him to get it down so his head would rise up as his feet went down. Once they below his butt, his head and shoulder were up enough that Six could get ahold of the rigging and pull himself the rest of the way. Four stayed close, keeping a hand on his climbing partner.

“Now, when Four tells you, follow his lead and climb back up here.”

“We could climb back down.”, Six tried.

“No. We’re closer to the top than the bottom. The easy way down is on the other side. Makes more sense to finish the ascent and then come back down the other side. Come on, you can do it.”

Six, to Four’s surprise, just nodded. Looking up, Four could see that Five was offering a small, reassuring smile. She had used to her Doctor tone. The one that gave orders and expected them to be followed cause she knew what she was talking about. He thought it was sexy. One would kill him if Four ever admitted to it though. It was one of the rules. No fraternizing.

The three continued their climb, reaching the top soon enough. Once there, they took a break. Drinks, some granola and jerky, a bit of stretching in the early afternoon sun. Four had promised a nice day for them. He liked to think he had made good on the promise.

“Sorry about panicking back there.”

“It happens. First time you end up arse over teakettle, everyone freaks out.”

“Did you?”

“Never happened to me. I didn’t learn on ropes till after I had learned free style.”

“Why’d you start us on the ropes then?”, Six asked.

“Cause of what happened to you today.”, Five observed.

Six looked back and forth between she and Four.

“You knew we’d fall?”

Four shrugged a shoulder, then washed down a bite of jerky with a large swallow of water.

“Neither of you have any experience except at the gym with me. Odds were one of you would fall.”

“Oh.”

Four nudged the newest member of the Ghost team.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to let you die. I got your back, man.”

“Thanks.”

Six got up, looking around as if searching for something.

“What are you looking for, Six?”, she asked the wheelman.

“Bathroom.”

Both Five and Four chuckled at their city-slicker friend. Even Five, who had spent nearly her whole life in either New York City or Los Angelos, knew what the bathroom arrangements would be on this kind of trip.

“There’s a bush over there, have at it.”, Four muttered around a bite of granola.

“Bush?”

They nodded.

“What about toilet paper?”

Four barked a laugh.

“You thought there’d be a port-a-john up here?”

Five rummaged in her small backpack she had brought, tossing a role of toilet paper at her colleague.

“Thanks!”, he said as he dashed off with it, towards the aforementioned bush.

“Oh, so someone thought of all the essentials?”, Four teased.

“No, more like some of us can’t just unzip and have a go while in the middle of climbing, so I wanted to make sure I could take care of business when the chances arose.”

“Smart girl.”

“I was a doctor.”

“Educated too, then.”, he added with a widening smile.

Five, against her better judgement, found that she was growing fond of that smile. Sometimes she wondered how different her relationships with these five people would be, if she had met them Before. Would One have grated on her nerves? Would two have been her after work drinks, companion? Three would probably have been a somewhat amusing but somewhat clueless guy down the street who she chatted in the elevator with, both lapsing into Spanish on purpose to annoy their uppity neighbors. Six, well she would have written him off being just like the guys she worked with every day- born with a silver spoon in his mouth, chased women and drove fast, ridiculously expensive cars.

Four though, she wasn’t so sure about. He was a little younger than her, with a youthful exuberance and a willful disregard for rules. But, at the same time, there was a softness to him. A sort of sweetness. He was hyperactive and chaotic while also being deeply thoughtful and extremely observant. She figured his being observant made sense. He had to read things quickly and accurately to get all that parkour stuff done without falling to his death.

“Thanks, Five.”, Six said as he tossed the roll of toilet paper back at her.

“Welcome.”


	3. Losing The First Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the team loses their first member, how do they deal with it? Five decides to go climbing at the last place she and Four had climbed with their friend. One has a few things to say about it. Two is too busy recuperating and Three sticks close to their injured teammate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Six's death and details there of are gone over. Discusses the funerals of some of the team members. Has a discussion of seizures, emergency C-sections/surgeries (Five talking about her training years, really), and having a memorial for a lost friend up on a mountain.
> 
> Again, because One is here, the F-bomb gets dropped. There is also a small reference to Deadpool (I've never seen the movies, this is based off my secondhand knowledge) and a reference to a couple of the team breaking the No Names rule.

Losing the First Ghost

Four and Three drove, listening the whole time to the chatter of the others. Six was having trouble seeing, then there was a noise and One barking something unintelligible over the radio. Three glanced over at Four, the nervous look enough for Four to see he wasn’t the only one thinking there might not be a second mission. Their fake-deaths and the damage left in the wakes, amounting to nothing if they failed straight out of the gate and all ended up really dead.

“One’s loco.”, Three muttered.

Four didn’t disagree. They came up through the parking garage, trying to catch up to the rest of their team. Four noticed the white-knuckle grip on the wheel and that it got worse when someone mentioned how much Two was bleeding. Pulling his mic, Four decided to ask the question out loud.

“You think she’ll be alright?”

Three nodded.

“Five will take care of her.”, Four added.

Despite having never really seen Five working on a patient, he was sure she was good. One wouldn’t have recruited someone who was only just OK. And the calm she had explaining to Six why he needed to be still and lower his feet, she had the mindset of a good doctor. Calm in the face of danger, collected in the midst of an adrenaline high.

“We’re almost there.”, Three muttered as they made their way up to the level where they were going to disappear.

They saw the neon green car likely able to be seen from space, and both jumped out of the van armed and ready to go. Six was too still. Too quiet. Six wasn’t quiet by nature, almost as chatty as Four. The others got out of the car, Two bleeding heavily from a wound to her abdomen, Five helping her move along, and One walking more slowly out of the car.

Four wanted to swear and scream. This was their first mission. First. There were supposed to be many missions. They were supposed to change the world. They weren’t supposed to bury one of their own on the first mission out.

“Let’s gather him up.”, Three said gruffly at Four’s side.

Four nodded.

Three looked like he might throw up any minute, yet he carefully held Six’s shoulders as Four reached for their friend’s head. One walked up, holding out a laundry bag that had been meant to hide some of their clothes in if they needed tossed because of blood or other fluids being on them. Once Four had placed the head into the bag, he moved to help Three pull the rest of Six from the seat into the bag. They needed to be quick, as One reminded them multiple times, as he stood with a gun watching over them as they worked to get Six taken care of.

The two men loaded Six’s remains into the van, with Five helping Two move off to the side so they would have enough room. Four checked to see Three looking at Two’s wound as if he was afraid it would suddenly rip open and cause her to bleed to death in seconds. Four was a bit amazed Two was still conscious. He knew well that people could survive losing a lot of blood, especially if they were in good shape and didn’t panic. He also knew when you were in danger of losing consciousness. Two should have been out cold. Adrenalin was a hell of thing.

“Here.”, Five offered, getting ahold of the edge of the bag to help place Six across the middle seat of the van.

Four moved to sit on the floor between the front seats and the middle seat, his arm up on the seat to help hold Six in place. Five looked at Six’s body, then back to Two, who was just starting to look a bit drowsy.

“Five, you read Italian. Help One.”, Three commented and he held out hand to help her down the steps so he could trade places with her.

Five moved, going to grab the map and sit up front with One. Three moved to the back seat, letting Two lay her shoulders and head in his lap, his arm helping secure her in place as One pulled off. Four pretended he couldn’t hear Three whispering, though as faint as it was, he doubted One or Five could hear it. Turning, Four looked at Six’s body laid out across the middle seat. First casualty. First loss. Newest teammate and first to go. Four almost laughed as his mind supplied a comment from this first and only boss on the day he fired Four, “last hired, first fired”.

Five turned her head back, seeming concerned. Four waved her off. He was fine. Just crashing from the rush in his blood, and crashing hard. She gave him a tired, small smile, then turned back to the task at hand. Four decided to focus on her instead of Six. Six’s body, which was already beginning to feel a little cool compared to Four, and the blood was pooling in parts of the bag. Five was in a blood-spattered dress, her hair coming loose from her somewhat severe styling, dark circles appearing under her beautiful dark eyes, her makeup still perfect. Four was sure her makeup brand was expensive. Had to be, to survive all this. Again, he almost chuckled. His friend was laying decapitated behind him and here he was focusing on how expensive his other friend’s makeup was.

“We’re almost there.”, Five announced to everyone in the back.

“Should be out to sea in less than 10.”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Five gathered her gear up, pointedly ignoring the red rigging right next to it. Four’s rigging was white rope with a bright yellow and blue harness, mostly used to tether she and Six to him in case either of them fell. Her rigging was bright blue rope with a pink harness that Four got her when he noticed she liked fluorescent pink. Six had red rigging with a black harness. Five shook her head. She did not want to think right now.

Then she saw it. The red and black clip that Six claimed was his favorite clip. How anyone had a favorite clip, she had not been sure, but he did. Five picked it up and tucked it into the small backpack she was taking up with her. She added a little candle and a small packet of matches.

“What are you doing?”, One asked as he appeared behind her like the Ghost he likened them all to being.

“Packing.”

“Why?”

She turned, fury barely contained.

“I’m going climbing, One.”

“Why? We have planning to do.”

“I just helped bury a friend at sea yesterday, One. I watched Four and Three putting his body parts into a laundry bag. You wouldn’t let us give him a eulogy or anything like that on the boat. We have to grieve, One.”

“We aren’t family, there’s nothing to grieve.”

Five flew forward, finger in One’s face.

“HE WAS A LIVING PERSON!”

Suddenly, Four was there, his chest against her arms, his hands reaching back to shove One away. She could tell he was speaking, but Five wasn’t hearing him.

“Five. Five? FIVE! Breathe, just breathe.”

She turned her eyes from One’s face, his mask slipping to show his guilt and shame at losing their newest recruit. Looking at Four, she could see something different in those bright green eyes. Worry. Concern. Her anger dissolved.

“I’m going climbing, One. Don’t like it, shoot me.”

Four turned to One, his tone harder than usual for the young man.

“I’ll go with her, make sure she doesn’t fall off a mountain.”

“Aw, sweet. Just make sure you don’t turn into a Hallmark movie up there.”

Five spotted Four flipping their leader off, before moving to collect his climbing gear. It didn’t take long for them to drive out to the location where they would climb. It hadn’t been planned, yet Four seemed to know where Five had wanted to go. The place where they last climbed. Where Four’s grip had crumbled under his hand, sending him falling down. If Six hadn’t been so quick on the ropes, Four would have been badly hurt, possibly dead. They had all had a drink about it after, laughing and joking.

The two of them quietly got their things together and set up to climb. They spent the better part of the afternoon climbing, barely speaking except to talk about things they had to communicate as they ascended the mountainside. Five felt she could finally take a deep breath. The sun beating down on her shoulders, the rocks digging into her gloved fingers, her harness digging into her hips. She was alive. She was here.

The sun had just touched the horizon line when they hit the top of the outcropping they were going to camp on for the night. Four handed her a beer as he pulled out his sleeping bag to unroll. She pulled out the candle and Six’s favorite clip, before she undid her sleeping bag.

“What’s that?”, Four asked as he crawled over.

“I thought Six deserved some kind of memorial. One doesn’t rule up here. I can say goodbye to my friend up here.”

Four nodded as he moved to sit cross-legged next to Five. Five pulled out the tin of matches, placing the candle a couple feet away from her shins, then putting the clip next to it, before closing her eyes. Her mom, whenever she lit a candle at the Church for someone she wanted to remember or pray for, always closed her eyes and prayed silently. Five had never asked what the prayer was. Now she wished she had.

Prayer completed, she struck a match and lit the candle. She let out a breath. For a long while, neither she or Four spoke. They sat there, shoulders touching as they leaned slightly towards each other and watched the flames.

“Who went to your funeral?”, Four asked.

She considered, for a moment.

“My old boss and some of the other doctors. None of them gave eulogies. One of the nurses from the OB ward came, and she gave me a eulogy.”

Four nodded.

“What’d she say? Did she tell a joke?”

“No. She was from the hospital I trained at, not where I was working. She told a story about this patient who was brought in, pregnant and having seizures because of flashing lights at a carnival. Girl was a teenager, had been a couple weeks from her due date and went to a carnival with friends cause she wanted a funnel cake and her boyfriend to win her stuffed animal. Can you imagine? Teenaged girl about to become a mother, and all she wanted was a sweet cake and a toy?”

Four smiled, his eyes still on her as she talked to the candle.

“When she was seizing, she must have cut her arm and they got the seizures under control but had to deliver with an emergency C-section cause there was no way this girl could do natural labor. They brought me in to help sew her arm back together while she was under, having her C-section. The next morning, she was in a post-op room with room-darkening curtains to help make sure she didn’t seize again, her right arm was all taped up from my sewing her up, her abdomen was sewn back together, and her ankle was in a cast from where she had busted her foot into the pavement at some point. Her boyfriend was off rocking their baby, her parents had ignored all calls to come see her, and she was all alone in that room. I went up to sit with her for a while. Her dad was Puerto Rican and her mom’s mother had been Guatemalan, so we had talked about food we grew up on, things our grandmothers taught our moms, weird habits our moms had, and other stuff. And none of it in English. She said her boyfriend’s family were German immigrants and that her boyfriend grew up in America, but spoke German the way she and I spoke Spanish. She was laughing about how their son was going to have such a weird name if she gave him her grandpa’s name the way she wanted to, since her boyfriend’s last name was such a strong, German name.”

Four couldn’t resist.

“Did she name him like she wanted to?”

Five nodded.

“The nurse said, in her eulogy, she had been there helping the girl fill out the paperwork for naming her son. Guess the Nurse, Judy, had overheard the girl and I talking. Girl’s grandpa, Diego, had been a carpenter and super kind so she wanted her son to have some connection to that. Somewhere, there’s a kid named Diego Freudenberger. His mom was a teen girl I had a conversation with, and Nurse Judy remembered how I had made this girl’s journey so much easier, not just because I spoke her language but because I shared her background and I listened to her.”

“Diego Freudenberger. Bet he’ll be a shrink.”

Five laughed, despite herself.

“Not a lawyer. He’ll get made fun of too much, it won’t shape a future lawyer.”

“I certainly hope he doesn’t become a lawyer. I hope he’s having a good life.”

“Me, too.”

For a while, both of them just sat and watched the candle or the stars. They sipped their beers and remembered their friend. They had not known each other terribly long, but long enough to get attached.

“Do you think anyone will survive the next mission?”, Five asked.

“Maybe. Two, possibly Three.”

Five chuckled.

“What about you?”

Four looked over, seemingly confused.

“Who went to your funeral?”

“A couple people. No one cried. Pretty sure one was drunk, though. At least I hope he was.”

“I wonder who went to Three and Two’s funerals.”

“Three’s got some brothers. He mentioned them once. Two, she was a ghost even before One recruited her. I don’t know if she even had a real funeral.”

“One probably had a huge one. Drama queen.”

“More than likely. He probably had paid mourners. Used to be a thing, you know? Hiring people to grieve loudly and publicly.”

“I’ve heard.”

“I should have hired a few.”

“Would it have made you feel better?”

“Probably not.”

“I think we should probably get some sleep.”

Four nodded, moving back over to his sleeping bag. They quietly readied themselves for bed and left the little candle, barely flickering at the end of the wick, as they settled down for the night.

“Five?”

“Yeah?”

“If I die, on one of these missions, set off some fireworks someplace. I always liked fireworks. Used to love climbing up onto rooftops to watch them as a kid.”

“Don’t die, Four. Just don’t.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t try.”

He smiled over at her.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

“Get some sleep, Five. We have a long climb tomorrow.”

“You know One is going to be a pain about this.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m just sayin’, Mia.”

“If he catches you using names, he’s going to kill you.”

Four shrugged.

“G’night.”

“Go to sleep.”, Five ordered, before curling up on her side with her back to Four and the candle.

Once she heard Four’s breathing even out and a slight snore on every third or fourth breath, she smiled.

“Sweet dreams, Billy.”, she whispered quietly.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

The next afternoon, they came back to the plane graveyard to find Two cleaning weapons and Three watching cartoons in Spanish. One was nowhere to be seen. Two looked up, glancing between Four and Five before returning her cold blue eyes to her guns. Three waved, his mouth full, and a microwave dinner in his other hand. Life was pretty normal, except for the lack of two team members.

“Where’s One?”, Five asked.

“Here.”

They turned to see One walking in, a chicken chimichanga in hand, reflective sunglasses hiding his dark eyes.

“So, you two a Thing now? Slinking in almost in the dark, all cozy like.”

Five almost charged into One.

“We were mourning our FRIEND! Don’t pretend you don’t care. I saw your eyes and I know you care, One. You’re a jerk and an ego-maniac at times, but you care. Wouldn’t be out here risking your neck if you didn’t care.”

Four put a hand to her shoulder, trying to calm her down as he addressed One.

“We went for a climb, to say goodbye. Wound’s still a little fresh.”

“Fine.”, One said.

“We’ll have a meeting tomorrow about our next step, kiddos. Don’t forget to eat your Wheaties.”

“Wheaties?”, Four asked.

One’s eyes went wide. Three just smiled, Two looked mildly amused.

“You don’t know what Wheaties are? Are you from another planet?”

“No. I just don’t eat what are? Old people’s food? Something to keep crap flowing?”

One’s jaw worked, opening and closing a couple times before he sighed.

“Fucking millennials.”


	4. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After nearly being left behind, Four is in need of patching up- luckily for him, Five happens to be a doctor. Once she's patched him up and is able to calm down enough to sleep again, Five dreams of Four and Six, of when she learned their names- their real names. She wakes to learn she isn't the only care-taker on the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Talks about Four's injuries and how he got them, an accident had while Four, Five, & Six were climbing, mentions Seven losing his unit, talks about sewing a person back up without pain meds/anything to knock them out for it.
> 
> There is a dream sequence that is mostly memories being relived. Couple cuss words, in keeping with the tone of the movie.

They arrived back to their hotel for the night, again not wishing to leave within a couple hours of such a big move, to decrease the level of scrutiny they would face as they made their getaway. Two grabbed her bag and one arm of their ‘guest’, with Three getting the man’s other arm, and another bag. One had already assigned them to babysit their ‘guest’. Five wanted to roll her eyes. Until they were out of country, they were forbidden from referring to their ‘guest’ by name.

As soon as they saw that Three and Two were checked in, Seven helped Four out of the little car. Five got out and went for her smell medical bag that had been under the passenger seat. One, meanwhile, stormed off for one of his Angry Walks.

“Where’s he off to?”, Seven asked.

“Angry Walk.”, Four muttered in response.

“Angry Walk? He’s the one who almost left you behind, who held a gun to his own man’s head, and HE’S the angry one?”

Four shrugged, limping a little beside Seven. Five walked in a bit behind them, reminding herself that she was supposed to look like she had just come back from a party. Not an emotional rollercoaster or a horror film come to life. She pulled her hair back quickly, pinning it into place with a pencil length black stick, stood straight, and marched in with her small medical bag.

Twenty minutes later, she was spreading her gear over the coffee table of her hotel room as Seven was laying out a garbage bag over the one cushion of the little sofa.

“Here.”, he offered to Four as he helped the younger man limp over to the couch.

“You two need anything else?”

Five shook her head as she pulled out some gloves.

“Nah, man. We’re good. Go find One.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna go look for that son of a bitch?”

Four grinned up at him. Seven couldn’t get over how cheerful and bright the kid looked, despite all the dirt, sweat, and blood on his face. Not to mention the darkening bruise around his neck from being strangled by a much larger, meaner person. Not to mention, the way he was favoring his one side, Seven was pretty sure the kid had some bruised or cracked ribs. He also had some minor cuts from ricochet and being beaten.

“Cause you’ve got a bone to pick with him.”

“You’re damn right.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine. Five won’t let me die.”

The kid turned back to face the team doctor. The look she shot him told Seven a couple new facts about this team.

“She might kill you, though.”, Seven deadpanned.

He heard Four gulp a little. Kid jumped around building rooftops and construction that were dozens of stories up in the air, without the least hint of fear. Seeing him looking so obviously nervous about being alone with their doctor almost made Seven want to laugh.

“Look after him.”, he commented before heading out.

Four hadn’t taken his eyes off Five since joking that she wouldn’t allow him to perish. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Seven was right. She was going to kill him. He survived all that happened tonight on their second mission only to get taken out by the healer.

Her dark eyes finally broke the intense stare and went to her limited tools on the table. That’s when Four noticed something even more disconcerting than her glare had been. The shaking in her hands. She looked almost like a diabetic crashing.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the hands? You alright? When was the last time you had a hit of caffeine? Do you need a cola?”

He started to get up only to have a blue-gloved hand shove him back into the sofa.

“Don’t fucking do that again?”, she said in a low, dangerous tone.

“Do what?”

“Almost die. Make us leave you behind.”

She looked away and started to roll up his pant leg. Four reached, catching one wrist until she looked up at him.

“I don’t think Seven’s gonna let that happen any time soon. And we both know Three would have turned around in a minute or so. He wouldn’t have left me behind. He’s the one who spotted me hanging off the side of the building so Seven knew where to look.”

Five looked up, her eyes damp and haunted. She didn’t look at him, just off into the distance.

“I didn’t ask him to turn around.”

“Who?”

“One.”

Four let out a sigh. Rubbing a thumb back and forth across Five’s wrist, he thought for a moment.

“He wouldn’t have listened to you anyway. It’s his biggest rule after No Contact With Our Old Lives.”

“I still should have argued the point. You’re worth going back for.”

Four smiled, leaning down a little closer to Five’s face.

“Why didn’t I argue? I just accepted that you were a lost cause and… moved on. I’m a doctor, I’m not supposed to give up on people that way.”

“Hey, listen.”

She turned her head, so Four tried again, a little firmer in his tone.

“Listen.”

Five’s dark eyes looked up at him. It took him a second to get his train of thought back. Her gaze had that effect.

“You’re a doctor. They trained you to know when to call it, rattle off time of death, and move onto the next patient- who you actually could save. You’ve probably got more in common with Seven’s military wiring, than you might guess.”

“He went back for you.”

“Yeah, but he’s military and he’s lost men in his unit before. Changes how a person thinks to lose people that way. You’re a doctor, they make you accept that you can’t save everybody, but to work like hell to save the savable ones.”

Five let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a scoff.

“I thought you’d catch up. Even when we first pulled out, I somehow still thought you’d do some insane, impossible stunt and end up waiting for us around the corner.”

He grinned.

“See? You just over-estimated how awesome my get-away skills are. Not your fault, Mia.”

“Five.”, she playfully growled.

He finally let go of her wrist and sat back, cradling his head with his arms and allowing Five to be able to work on his ankle. Closing his eyes, he smiled.

“Alright Five, wake me when you’re done down there, yeah?”

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes at him before she finished rolling up his pant leg to reveal the work in need of doing. None of it hurt too much till she had to stitch him up. She didn’t have any good drugs to kill the pain and even if she had something to knock him out, there was no way she would have given it to him after all the headshots he took and having been strangled for a time. Four did his best not to flinch as she sewed him back together.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five looked around, unsure for a moment. Then she remembered. She was climbing with Six and Four. It was not their last climb before the mission, that would be tomorrow’s climb. Today’s was a short one, just for the heck of it. To blow off steam. She reached, adding a little chalk dust to her hands in order to combat the sweating her palms were doing.

“LOOK OUT!”, Six shouted.

Five looked up in time to see Four falling past her, clinging to his ropes with his bright green eyes wide as saucers. Without thinking, she clung to the rockface like a spider. It was what Four had drilled she and Six on for days before he took them near a real mountain.

She heard the rope snap tight as Four came to the end of it. Six, from somewhere above her, shouted for her to stabilize the ropes. He was going to put a couple more pins into the rockface to anchor he and Four, as the fall had taken out two pins. Five didn’t even have to ponder over it, she reached right out with one hand to stop Four’s swinging.

“Good girl!”, Four shouted from ten feet below her foothold.

“Alright, I’ve got the pins placed. Four, can you climb up?”

“Yeah. Not hurt, just had my hold crumble, then the pin snapped and I was flying. Happens sometimes.”

He seemed so calm about it. She wanted to throw up just thinking about Four hanging there like that.

“Coming up.”

He began his ascent, even cheeky enough to pretend to tip a hat to her and grin as he passed her to retake his lead position in the group. Thankfully, the rest of the climb had been uneventful. And when they went to sit at the top of the mountain, they had laughed and had a good time, Four’s near death experience seemingly forgotten as they told stories from their old lives.

“And that’s how they ended up calling me Mad Billy.”, Four finished his latest story.

“So that’s your name, William?”, Six asked.

“It was. What about you?”

“You know One doesn’t want us to know each other’s real names.”, Five interjected.

“True.”, agreed Four, “But he’s not here, is he?”

Six grinned with a laugh, taking a drink from his canteen.

“Beaumont.”

“Beaumont? Really? Wow, I’d go by Six too, if my parents had named me Beaumont.”

Six shrugged.

“Did you give your mum morning sickness for the whole pregnancy or something?”

“It was her father’s name and it had been someone’s name on my dad’s side. Sounded all fancy, my full name. They loved it. I hated it. I always wanted to be something cool and short, like Jack or Nick.”

“What’d you use for a nickname, Beau?”

“That’s what my mom called me, especially when other people were around. My friends used to call me Shorty, cause I was the shortest person in our class. Even the nine girls were taller than me.”

Both men went quiet for a moment as Five added a couple twigs to their little fire.

“I was Mamma Mia, cause I was always mothering everybody.”

Four smiled over at her as Six laughed.

“Sounds about right.”, Four added.

Six looked over at her quizzically.

“That mean you’re name was Mia? Somehow I pictured something more… well, with more letters. I had you pegged as one of those girls with an old family name that’s got a bunch of syllables and extra letters no one pronounces.”

“Amelia doesn’t really fit that bill.”

Six shook his head before moving to dig through his backpack for food. Four smiled softly at her.

“Amelia, it suits you.”

Her dream shifted from the memory of that trip to the trip meant as a memorial service for Six. Looking at the little candle and the clip as the wind threatened to blow out the flame.

“Beaumont. I still can’t believe he was named Beaumont.”

“I don’t know. People name their daughters Belle or Isabella, every day. Means the same thing.”

Turning, she grinned over at him.

“Imagine how much grief One and Three would have given him with that name.”

Four laughed, tears coming to his eyes as Five smiled. She was little teary-eyed herself, though not entirely from laughing.

“What happens when we get too old for this? When Seven can’t use his spectacles to look through the scope, when you can’t parkour everywhere like a monkey on speed, and Two isn’t the smoking hot 30-something who can get in anywhere?”

He shrugged, looking off into the starry sky.

“One will retire us in favor of 8 through 12, then sit back in his wheelchair, bossing them around between drags on his oxygen tank.”

She busted out at that.

“I can totally see that.”

Four nudged her with his elbow, grinning.

“We should start our own team and outsmart his new team. We can make fun of them for relying so much on new fangle tech and not enough on their own skills.”

Five nodded, clinking the neck of her drink against Four’s.

“I like it. We can be geriatric hecklers.”

He perked up at that, his bright peridot eyes wide.

“We’ll be just like the guys in the MUPPETS!”

Five just shook her head.

“Drink your beer.”

He just grinned at her as he moved to finish the rest of his beer.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Five roused from her sleep, looking wildly about, disoriented. They had done their second mission, she recalled. Four fell behind, Seven held a gun to Three’s head, so did One. Three turned around and helped Seven locate Four. Seven saved Four. They rode to the hotel. She had patched Four up and then gone to sit in the other chair.

She checked. Four was snoring on the sofa with a small throw over his shoulders and his injured leg propped on pillows and the arm of the furniture. His shoes were gone. She didn’t remember taking his shoes off or getting him a blanket, though she had gotten him the pillows and helped him prop him up so reduce swelling.

It was then she realized Four didn’t have the only blanket. There was another, a full sized one from the bed, laid over her legs and belly. It looked like it had been to her chin before she woke up and moved around. Her shoes were also gone, placed perfectly at the one leg of her chair. Someone had also put her gear away and had put a pillow behind her head to keep her from getting a crick in her neck.

She wondered if Seven or Three had sneaked in. She wouldn’t put it past either man to want to come check on Four, and to go all Mother Hen. Three had been from a big family, and it was as obvious as the nose on a face, when seeing him interact with children in general and Four in particular. Seven, she could tell, had Mother Hen come naturally to him- either from his family’s influence or his time in the military.

“Go back to sleep.”

“What?”

She looked over to see Four, his breathing still slow and even, his eyes closed.

“Sleep.”

“You’re awake?”

“Only cause you woke me up with your rustling in the blanket. Go back to sleep. I set an alarm on the phone. We’ll have time to get showered, dressed, and out to meet the team.”

Settling back, she tried to calm her mind.

“Stop thinking. Sleep, Mia.”

“Five.”

She caught the corners of his mouth tipping up.

“Four… Three…Two… One.”

She rolled her eyes, then closed them. Letting out a long breath in a practiced habit from Med school, she lowered herself into slumber. Four was alive and well enough to tuck her in then tuck himself back in, clear-headed enough to set an alarm for them, and okay enough to joke. He was going to be fine. Seven, Three, Two, and One were in their rooms. Tomorrow they would start the coup. Tonight, they could rest.


	5. Dia de Muertos - Coup d'etat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four and Five first have to do some recon, and then--- it is time to start a revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Swearing (it's Ryan Reynolds movie, afterall) and descriptions of the team being able to hear Four getting almost beaten to death. Also talks about traditions dealing with Dia de Muertos and a particular tale that Amelia/Five recalls hearing an older woman tell the children on her block as a kid [taken from a similar event in my own life, sorry if the story was something the old lady made up- it sounded interesting and it stuck with me] about Death himself on Dia de Muertos. 
> 
> Also, One will break his own rule.

Five looked through the binoculars. Tomorrow, she and Four would return in order for him to parkour his way through the station, planting One’s gizmos in order for them to take over the TV station. Today, she had to pinpoint weak spots in the defenses, get photos of the rigging and structures, time the guards passing by on the perimeter, and make notes about anything worth mentioning to One and Seven. Four crouched next to her with a camera.

“Ready for the Revolution?”, he asked with a wide grin.

Looking over at him, she could see he looked worried. Even the smile that came so easily was not hiding how he really felt.

“No.”, she muttered before looking back through the binoculars.

“How do you think Three and Two will do, with their bit?”

She shrugged, before remembering he was looking through the camera.

“Two will make sure it goes according to plan.”

“Good point.”

They watched for several more minutes, taking copious notes and photos. Once they started to lose the light, they decided it would be a good time to head back to the hotel. Four drove, allowing Five to follow the directions. He may have been safe from all the vias, but Turgistan still had it’s own navigational issues.

Aside from offering directions, the trip mostly passed in silence. Both of them were nervous for tomorrow. Tomorrow they would place all the final pieces on the board for the coup. Two and Three would have to place explosives in several locations throughout the capitol city at all the statues their target had erected, One and Seven would need to get into the station in order to check a few last things and place a couple items for the takeover with Five being the voice in their ears guiding them through security, and Four had to guard their ‘guest’.

“Five?”

“Yeah.”

“When you have to get in with One and Seven, you gonna be okay?”

She looked over at him, as he watched the road, bright eyes never leaving the road. He wasn’t normally so focused on where he was driving. He was avoiding looking at her.

“I would be more worried about Two. She has to do in without a vest or a gun, and has to figure out how not to get kicked off the boat before we get there. Or Three, he’s got to get there in a sneaky fashion, right beside our guy and all his guards. Or you.”

“Me?”

“You have to swim under water, disable the anchor, and make sure the explosives are all attached, then get yourself aboard, while unarmed and alone, hopefully also avoiding being spotted.”

He was quiet for a while. Five was not all that surprised. There was no way to make any guarantees about the outcome of the next two days.

“I’ll be alright. Stop worrying.”

“I’ll stop if you stop.”

He smiled slightly, shaking his head.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Exactly.”, she concurred.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Five was still beating herself up over how badly she had fumbled the intel for One and Seven. One had recovered, though his style for it had been disturbing. Really, who thinks of such a masochistic, erotica-gone-wrong scenario? The man’s mind must have been a special kind of warped. Although, she reminded herself, if she had not screwed up feeding him details then he would not have needed to reach for an explanation. She needed to concentrate. Today was the day. The Day of the Dead.

Four leaned for his spot in the back of the SUV, bumping his shoulder against hers. She looked up to see him, bruises on his neck mostly covered by the scarf he wore over his tunic. If she hadn’t checked his wounds that morning, she might have missed the bruises now.

“Stop thinking so much.”, he whispered to her as One muttered to himself about the terrible Google Earth directions.

“I almost got One and Seven in some serious shit yesterday, and today we’re going to overthrow a dictator.”

He nodded.

“I know. But that mess up was yesterday, they survived. Today, we have to have our heads in the game, Mia.”

She looked over, glaring at him.

“Four, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Four was undeterred.

“I’m just saying, worry later. You’ve gotta keep your head clear today, Five.”

She nodded, relaxing a bit beside him. It was then, as she looked over at his lap, that she realized why he had opted for the longer tunic and scarf instead of what she, One, and Seven did. He had his wet suit on underneath the tunic. He grinned as he followed her line of sight.

“Checking out the goods?”

Five looked back up at his smiling face, a scowl on her own. He just grinned a little wider at her, his cheekiness unimpacted.

“You’re in your wetsuit.”

“Yeah. Figured this way I could strip off real quick and get right in there.”

A solid plan, she figured. She let out a breath and turned her head to look out the tinted window. A moment later, she felt Four’s hand skim over her thigh to get under her palm, threading his fingers through hers to hold her hand. Five gave Four’s hand a gentle squeeze, keeping her gaze on the people they passed.

One soon had them where they needed to be. He parked, looking around with Seven for a moment before doing a radio check.

“Three?”

“Waiting by the car.”

“Two?”

“I’ll be on the ship in ten.”

“Alright, boys and girls, this is it. We save the day or we die painfully while trying.”

Five rolled her eyes. Seven looked over at One, shaking his head.

“Hell of a motivational speech there, One. You couldn’t inspire a cow to moo with that shit.”

One growled unintelligibly as he exited the car. Five, Seven, and Four got out behind him, heading for the back of the vehicle. They had things to unload and gear to strap into. As they strapped in, Five found her mind wandering to her own memories of Dia de Muertos. As a child, she used to cook beside her mom for a couple days in advance of the holiday. It was something many of her neighbors did. Her mom, however, had an old tradition that only she and Amelia had done. They would make beautiful paper kites with bright colors and patterns that got more elaborate as Amelia’s artistic skills improved. Then, during Dia de Muertos, they would tie them to the outside railing to fly in the breeze that came between the buildings. At the end, when the kites were messy and torn, she and her mom would cut them down and burn them.

“Why do we burn them?”, she had finally asked her mom, when she had been about ten or eleven.

“The smoke will guide our departed loved ones back to Heaven.”, had been her mom’s response.

Looking around, she could see where the revolutionaries had burned flags and other propaganda items, and where the statues One’s bombs had blown, smoldered in the distance. Five smiled. Maybe some of the dearly departed would now be at peace.

One dropped his side of the box they were carrying, in favor of stepping aside to argue with Three over the radio. Five didn’t even comment or growl. She just dragged the box over to Seven, allowing him to figure out what to do with it next.

Once she had it placed, Five went over to the edge of the boat and looked out at the city. This was it. There was no dress rehearsal. Today was the coup, the beginning of the revolution. Another memory, less clear than that of the kites, floated through her mind as she watched an older woman carrying a child away from the rioting crowds.

She had been very little, listening to an older neighbor. She couldn’t remember which apartment the older lady had lived in or what her name was, only that she had been a grandma to one of Amelia’s classmates and she told the most beautiful stories. One Dia de Muertos, several children had been gathered around to listen to her as she told them about the holiday.

The story that most stuck out to Five’s memory was that of Death, stalking his prey. How even the mightiest and wealthiest would face Death just the same as the meek and poor, and that on Dia de Muertos those soon to face their end could see Death over their shoulder if they turned quick enough. That Death hovered over his future bounty with a rictus grin. Five shivered a bit just thinking of it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself not to turn fast to look over her shoulder. Then she heard someone step to her side. Judging by the smell of gun powder and aftershave, she guessed it was Seven.

“Praying?”

“Not exactly.”

He nodded.

“You seen Four?”, he asked.

Five shook her head. Turning, Seven walked off. Once she was sure Seven was busy talking to One, and One was radioing Four, Five said a quick prayer. Hopefully, Death was not hovering over any member of their team today.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five listened over the radio as she stood, flush to the wall, hidden in Rovach’s suite. Four was somewhere on the ship, being beaten to death because he was distracting the guards for her.

“One, please?”

“Four?”

“Help me!”

“Give me a hint, buddy.”

More thumps. More punches. More heavy breathing and groans as the blows came.

“What’s your 20? Anybody got eyes on the target?”, Seven asked.

“I don’t know my 20. Stay off the channel. I’m going for Four.”

Five couldn’t believe it.

“Four, where you at, buddy?”

“You’re breaking your own rules.”, Seven gave voice to Five’s thoughts.

“I thought you didn’t have a family.”, he added at the end.

Five wanted to cry and cheer and scream. One was going for Billy and Seven would have their backs. Death didn’t get to take another teammate tonight. He didn’t get to take away another person from her.

She heard a shot over the comm, no word on who fired. Then there was a sickening snapping sound followed by the wail of Billy’s screaming. Five wanted to scream with him.

“It’s a big ship. Say somethin’, pal.”, One ordered, his voice worried.

They all heard Four groan in pain before answering.

“He’s gonna kill me.”

Five held a hand over her mouth, her breath stopping.

“Look, Bond, you gotta get here fast.”, Billy added, the pain evident in his quiet tone.

The radio filled with the sound of blows landing and Billy’s faint groans. Then a double-tap.

“There you are.”, One exclaimed.

“Cleavers.”

“What?”

“It’s a TV show. Come on, let’s go. Fucking millennials. Ship’s sinkin’. Come on.”, they could hear One ordering, presumably to Billy.

One radioed for everyone to get to the extraction point. Five mostly found herself focusing on the sound of Billy’s stilted breath. The Doctor-side of her was diagnosing and guessing, as to why he would breathe that way. Bruised or cracked ribs, broken nose, cracked jaw, punctured lung from repeated blows to his head and body. The other side of her was worried that he would be too hurt for her to save him, or too damaged for One to keep him on the team.

Despite the whirlwind inside her mind, Five ran out of the state room and up to the extraction point, meeting Seven as he was clearing the last couple areas to make sure no one shot them as they fled. Two and Three were already in place, guns raised and making sure only their teammates were on hand to be scooped up. Murat and his men would be there in a minute or less, Two informed them as she held the radio connecting her to Murat.

Looking, Five spotted the remaining members of their team. Four was still moving on his own steam, a couple steps behind One. The fact that One was keeping a hand out to Four was worrisome, as was the way Four was holding his ribs and cradling his right arm to his side, his body hunched a bit forward as he ran. Normally, he ran like an Olympic athlete. Not like a kid ducking under things.

One helped Four up the ladder to where they all stood. Five sprinted forward, reaching for Four’s good arm to help him over the top of the ladder. He leaned a bit on her as Seven came to check on One. The men exchanged some words, though Amelia heard none of it. Between the helicopter overhead and the shaky breaths Four was taking, she couldn’t hear much of anything.

Three helped her get Four into the helicopter, then gave her a hand in before turning to Two. There seemed to have been a shift in their relationship. One that had left Three seeming lighter and Two just a bit less cold. One and Seven appeared to be bickering as they climbed aboard. Five turned away from them as Three was settling a jacket around Two’s bare shoulders. Four was still in his wet suit, making things a bit more complicated as she could not just unbutton his shirt or roll up his sleeve to check on him.

The helicopter took off, allowing them to finish the last step of their plan. One handed out the military scarves meant to help soldiers blend in when they were in some sort of blind, waiting for the enemy to fall into a trap or to just walk by without realizing they almost walked overtop the military guys. Five set hers in her lap for the moment. She needed to check on Billy first.

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s not broken.”

“How do you know?”, she asked, more grumpily than she intended.

Four offered a tired smile, his eyes still managing to sparkle despite everything.

“Been broken before, this doesn’t hurt bad enough.”

“You’re high on adrenaline.”, she argued.

He shrugged, letting himself fall back against the cool metal of the helicopter.

“Always am. Trust me, it’s not broken. His aim was a little off, but I think I tore something in there.”

“How about your ribs? You breathing okay?”

He took a steady breath for her, barely wincing.

“Sore but I think intact.”

She nodded, moving her hands forward to probe his chest and back, then down to his abdomen. It was hard to tell, in the helicopter and through a wetsuit. She was fairly sure that none of his ribs were broken, though bruised and cracked were still possible. Four had a high pain tolerance and was definitely still running on adrenaline from their mission. Next, she checked his arm. He could turn it, make a fist, twist his wrist around, and even raise or lower his arm on command. That did not rule out damage, due to the hormones and his own pain tolerance.

Before she could move to check his pupils, Four reached to catch her hand. Looking, she found him staring directly into her eyes. She stopped. Four smiled, his thumb rubbing gently back and forth over the back of her hand.

“Mia, I’m alright. I promised.”

A half-scoff, half-sob escaped her lips at that. He had promised that he wouldn’t die if she didn’t. Four moved his good arm to slide from her hand across her arm and to her back, gently urging her forward into his embrace. She allowed it. Careful of his ribs, she gently held him, her face pressed to the crook of his neck. He was alive. He was upright and talking. And he was here with her. For right now, that was enough.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

The ride after dropping Rovach, was eerily quiet. None of them spoke. Not even Four. One seemed to be a million miles away. Seven looked out the window, clearly in Soldier Mode. Three looked out the window, taking it all in. Two seemed to be just looking off in the distance, her body relaxed as her mind wheeled. Four was relaxed against the back of the cab. Five was wedged between One and Seven, her mind somewhat blank as they flew.

Murat’s pilot brought them out to an area that had been settled on earlier. Quiet, far enough away from any cameras or foreign aid types, that there was little chance of any of their faces ending up on tonight’s new coverage of Turgistan’s Revolution. The six of them exited out both sides of the helicopter.

Murat waved to them one last time, before climbing back in, most likely to never see or speak to them every again. One slid his sunglasses on, smiling. Seven moved to check the perimeter for a moment as Two and Three exchanged a quiet moment of affection, their backs to each other as they looked around, ever-vigilant. Five found herself walking with Four up to the car they had helped One hide earlier. Five ordered Four to sit on the back bumper.

Wearing a Tshirt and shorts, he was much easier to assess and treat than he had been in the wetsuit. Five pulled up his shirt, checking his ribs again and listening with her stethoscope she had left in the car. His lungs sounded clear and there was no click or grind to indicated ribs moving. She checked his pupils, then in his ears to make sure there was no bleeding to be concerned about. He patiently sat, allowing her to poke, prod, listen, and look over him. The rest of the team seemed amused but made no comment, all moving to take their seats in the car.

Five moved to check Four’s right arm. It was already bruised badly over the elbow joint, with some swelling as well. However, he still had full strength in his arm and hand, able to make a fist and to move about with only some pain. Again, no grinding noise to alert her to any bone injury. The best she could tell was the sound they heard had been his wetsuit tearing or the bad guy’s own foot bone cracking.

“Five.”

She went to check his eyes again, needing to reassure herself that his eyes were focused and his pupils reacted correctly.

“Amelia.”

Five stilled. Four smiled fondly, reaching to catch Five’s hands in his own. His roughened thumb pads traced invisible patterns over the backs of her hands. She couldn’t look away from those vibrant eyes. Just a couple hours ago, she had thought she might never see them again and now she felt she almost wished to hide from them. They saw too much.

“One won’t like you using my name.”

“He’ll live.”

Four leaned closer, despite the obvious discomfort it caused. He stopped when his forehead was almost touching hers. She felt tears threatening and took a deep breath to fight them back.

“Mia?”

“You almost died.”

“We all did.”

She nodded.

“But we’re all here.”, he added.

“I know.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m not.”

He smiled, nodding slightly.

“Are you two coming, or are you planning to consummate your undying love right there on the back bumper?”, sassed One.

Four flipped him off with his left hand as he shot Five an exasperated look. She just chuckled and helped Four to his feet.


	6. Finally Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After they saved the day, it was time to go home. Then another mission. And another. The world can't be saved in a day. And now, after many miles and adventures, Amelia Armaz was finally home with her ragtag family and her daredevil love, all in time for her birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: None, I think. No real action in this final chapter.
> 
> Notes: I looked up how long it takes to become a trauma surgeon and the actress's age, and I'm sorry, I used the age she would have to be to have her job/life experience rather than using the actress's real age (she's about 9yrs too young to have her character's life, unless her character went to college at 9-10 years old). Sorry to the actress for aging-up her character.
> 
> Lastly, thank you to all those who've stuck with me and patiently awaited updates/new chapters. Thank you for your patience, and to everyone who is reading this-- thank you for reading my fic. I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have.

Post Script

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since their coup, that they had started a successful revolution. Amelia shook her head, still unable to fully believe what she had been right there to witness. Then she felt two warm hands skim her sides to rest on her hips as Billy’s warm breath fanned the side of her neck.

“What’re you shaking your head about? I know my fridge supplies are a little low right now, but it isn’t _that_ bad.”

“No.”, she turned in his embrace, the cool air from the fridge raising gooseflesh up her spine as she faced Billy, “Just what all we did, I still can’t believe it. It worked, we survived, Murat is in charge now.”

Billy smiled. The bruises on his neck were almost entirely gone from his being strangled on the side of the skyscraper, the cuts mostly healed on his face, along with the bruises. Amelia knew, if she removed Billy’s long-sleeved shirt, his arm and chest would still be deeply bruised with the colors fading from the deep purple-back to yellows and greens. Her own cuts on her face, neck, and hands were mostly-healed.

“Hey.”

She looked up into those familiar bright green eyes. Billy smiled.

“Let me fix you breakfast, then we’ll eat and head over to One’s meeting. Yeah?”

She nodded, stepping aside as he moved over to gather items from his fridge. He quickly fixed up some omelets for the pair of them, with three colors of peppers and some mushrooms. He always added some sort of hot sauce to his while Amelia preferred hers with a little pico de gallo, which Billy had remembered and put on hers without being reminded.

“Think he’ll be giving us the new assignment?”, Amelia asked.

Billy shrugged, chewing a large mouthful of food.

“I think he will. He’s given us a few days to relax, go settle stuff. I still can’t believe he didn’t say a word when Three came back from introducing his mom and Two. I thought, for sure, One would have at least some sarcastic crack to make.”

Billy swallowed.

“Probably thought Two would punch him.”, he added before taking another large bite of his food.

Amelia didn’t know how he ate such large bites, without unhinging his jaw like a snake. Technically, the human mouth shouldn’t work that way.

“Eat up, our meeting is in like, two minutes.”, he urged.

They finished up eating quickly before Amelia shoved her feet back into sandals and walked with Billy up into the HQ trailer. As usually, Wally padded over flop over on Billy’s feet while Amelia moved to sit next to Billy on one of the three swivel chairs. Seven hopped onto the edge of the one desk, his fingers fiddling with a metal puzzle of two interlocked pieces you had to separate. Three came in, sitting on a third swivel chair just a moment before Two strolled in and eased onto his lap with her head up looking for One while Three grinned, his left hand trailing up and down the small of her back. Amelia smiled. Who’d have thought the former hitman would be such a big softie?

“Alright, now that the gang’s all here. Let’s get to our next target. Scumbag, crime boss, psychopathic bastard.”

“So, vastly different from the last one.”, Seven deadpanned.

One glared up at Seven over his sunglasses, making a fake ‘haha’ face before rolling his eyes and handing out paper files to everyone except Three.

“Hey, why don’t I get one, papi?”

“Let your girlfriend read it to you.”, One griped before keeping the copy clearly labeled ‘Three’, as he read the highlights to the team.

Amelia looked over to see Billy gently biting one of his knuckles to help hold back a chuckle. He was always more amused by One’s interactions with Three and Seven, than she or Camille were.

“Alright guys and gals, this guy… he’s richer than Rovach. More guys working for him all that, but he isn’t quite as well known. He’s been quieter and smarter about how he does things.”

One continued the seminar for a while. Their guy was European and ruling with an iron fist over a small area near enough to Russia to be concerned about their interaction. The guy had ties to all sorts of horrible, powerful people, and he wasn’t afraid to flaunt them.

“Any questions?”, One concluded.

“Yeah.”, Seven said as he looked up from his copy of the file, “When do we leave?”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Amelia paused her packing to watch Billy through the window. He had already packed all of his gear the night before, being a nightowl. Amelia was an early bird, and had opted to do the last bit of her packing after she got up and had a shower. She hated to travel with nasty hair and feeling gross. But right now, watching Billy as he did parkour all over the trailers and old planes, was far more interesting than packing.

The play of muscle under his shirt, the sweat dripping from his nose and chin, hair plastered to his neck and forehead, his whole body in constant motion. It was like watching a dancer, she thought. Her mom used to take her to see the dancers at a heritage festival, every fall when she was growing up. The dancers came from several parts of the world, Spain, Columbia, Hawaii, Ireland, Italy, and China. Amelia had always loved watched them, mesmerized by their fluidity of movement and precision.

Billy paused on the roof of Three’s place, turning to catch Amelia spying. He grinned cheekily at her and pretended to salute before doing a backflip off the roof and into Three’s front yard area. Amelia shook her head with a fond smile, returning her attention back to her packing. They were supposed to leave in four hours and she needed to double-check the medical equipment before they left with enough time to grab anything she needed before they left.

“Need any help?”

She turned to see Billy in her doorway, a pleasant smile on his sweaty face.

“Nah, I’m good. Almost done.”

He nodded before moving to flop down, sitting cross-legged on her floor to let out a long breath.

“You can borrow my shower, if you want.”

He nodded, “In a bit.”

She zipped her last bag and then felt a warm hand on her calf. Billy was so tactile. Sometimes Amelia wondered how she had gone all those years of college, med school, and her job at the hospital, with most of the touching she received being the Unwanted kind. It felt so good to have Billy’s frequent, casual, intimate touching. And Three was much the same, always clapping his hand on shoulders, offering a high-five, hugging after a mission, nudging with his shoulder, and other things, with almost everyone. One and Two were the only real hold-outs who weren’t at all affectionate with the general team. Two allowed Three his touching, though she almost never reached out to him. Amelia didn’t know how Camille did it, as Amelia practically melted into Billy’s touches and they hadn’t even slept together yet.

“You ready for this?”

She smiled.

“All good. You know I just like to make sure I’ve got everything.”

He nodded, his thumb rubbing distracting waves across her leg. Thanks to the choice of comfort over practicality, she still had on her shorts she wore mostly around the trailer when she wasn’t working. That meant she could feel every callous and scar on Billy’s hand.

“Wanna join me in that shower?”

Amelia chuckled, pulling up her suitcase.

“Already took mine, and honestly, these showers were barely meant for one grown adult. I can’t imagine two adults trying to cram in there, without at least a skull fracture and a broken leg being the results.”

“It’s sexy when you talk medical stuff.”, he said with a grin, before jumping back to his feet.

“Alright, off to shower. If I stink, you won’t sit next to me.”

She scrunched her nose as she shook her head. Billy left as Amelia finished counting and going over her bags to make sure had EVERYTHING.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

Billy sat with Javier, the two watching, each with a bottle in hand, as Two put the new girl through her paces. She was the true replacement for Six. Beaufort had been their driver, with skills that looked like a FAST & FURIOUS scene, which he only got to use once on one of their missions. Their first, and to date, most disastrous mission. The new girl, Eight- also known as Fahira, was doing pretty well. Javier and Billy had money on how long it wound take before both women were on the ground fighting dirty.

One came over, watching the goings-on for a moment before sliding his sunglasses on, swiping a beer out of Three’s cooler, and walking off. Three flipped their leader off, halfheartedly. The two still growled at each other, though it had calmed a bit in recent months.

“Who’s winning?”, Blaine asked as he walked up, his arm freshly bandaged in the sling Amelia had made for him.

“Not sure. I think Two, but Eight almost had her there for a second.”, Billy answered as he passed a beer over to Blaine.

The three of them continued to watch, Three occasionally cheering his girlfriend on and Blaine citing openings or particularly tricky moves the women had. Billy mostly just observed, well aware how it felt to get tossed around the mat by Two. Ever since he healed up enough from Turgistan, she had been insisting on him learning to better defend himself without a gun.

He understood her reasoning. He could do a bit of old fashioned fisticuffs with one person, who didn’t fight dirty and wasn’t terribly great at boxing. Against someone who knew what they were doing or, as was often Billy’s case, fighting several people all coming at him at once- he was in bad shape. Two, on the other hand, nearly took out a whole room of bad guys while not only unarmed but in high heels.

“What are you boys up to?”, Five asked as she slid into place beside Billy.

Three grinned, commenting in Spanish that he was cheering his girl on. Seven shrugged, pointing the mouth of his beer in the direction of the sparring session.

“Enjoying the hazing.”

Billy looked over at Amelia, a softness in his eyes that still made her heart skid a bit, even after months together. His one arm moved to draw her closer till she was resting her head against his shoulder, his hand drawing lazy patterns at the small of her back.

“Two’s just giving Eight a chance to show how capable she is in front of the rest of the team.”

Amelia nodded, agreeing. She made a grabby-hand towards the cooler and Billy set his beer down to grab the one bottle of the brand she preferred to hand to her. She nodded her thanks before using the bottle-opener Blaine had installed at the end of all the tables on his end of their little trailer park, and she downed a good bit of her beer in one go. Despite all the time she had lived in LA, she was still a New Yorker at heart, and this desert heat was just not her thing.

The sparring session did not end until both Camille and Fahira were both panting for air, soaked in sweat, and grinning as they swayed over to the table. Blaine handed Fahira her towel and bottle of water. Javier opened his arms, Camilla falling into his lap like a chair and letting Javier lean his head against her shoulder as she got her own drink and towel. Looking around, Amelia smiled.

She was a million miles from where she had expected to be. After she lost her mom, she had come back to New York feeling empty. A husk of a person. Her mom had such dreams for Amelia, she had wanted so much for Amelia and Amelia worked in an ER as a trauma surgeon at a hospital full of uppity, wealthy pricks in order to pay her mom’s medical bills. Then, there had been no more mama and too many racist, sexist jerks she had to navigate every day, then going home to an empty apartment. Every day. Over and over.

If someone had asked her two years ago where she would picture herself on her 36th birthday, she would have groaned as she pictured some party one of her bosses had insisted on throwing for an excuse to drink on someone else’s dime, with lots of empty toasts and gaudy gifts meant more to out-do each other than make her smile. Sitting beside her boyfriend on a bench, in the middle of a deserted airfield, with the Ghost team, would not have been what she described.

Billy leaned in, his lips warm against her ear while Javier was telling some story about a great fight he watched back in Florida. Amelia would admit she hadn’t been listening to the story and had only come out of her own head when she felt Billy’s breath on her cheek.

“Happy Birthday.”, he whispered.

Amelia smiled, turning her head to give him a slight kiss on the cheek. Blaine made a face at them. Amelia returned fire by sticking her tongue out at him.

“Get a room. All four of you. Come on, Fahira, let’s let the couples get to coupling and get while the getting is good.”

Fahira smiled, shaking her head as she walked with Blaine out towards the shooting range. Javier scooped Camille up into his arms, prompting her to roll her eyes as she grabbed around his neck to help keep her balance. They all knew she secretly enjoyed Javier’s affection, otherwise she would not have permitted it. Billy and Amelia wished them a goodnight as Javier walked off, singing loudly in Spanish as he went, the sun hanging low enough that a chill was just beginning to set in. Billy’s arm moved to cover more of her back.

“Come on, I’ve got something for you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Billy.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Come on! Come on!”, he urged as he gently nudged her to get off his lap.

Amelia moved, standing beside him to let him gather his cooler and the couple beers that hadn’t been consumed, while she gathered a few of the empties. They headed back to Billy’s trailer. It was very Billy. Bright colored furniture set against dark blue walls and lots of sturdy shelving units to hold his gear, knick-knacks, books, comic books, and such.

Billy tugged her over to a particular chair, taking the empty bottles, and telling her, “Stay here.”

“Why? Did you get me a stripper?”, she teased.

Billy spun backward to face her, pointing the bottom of a bottle at her with a fake-stern look on his face.

“Naughty, no.”

He scurried off, depositing the bottles each where they belonged and setting his cooler aside before disappearing back into his bedroom. Amelia just smiled before allowing herself to fall backwards into the inflatable barrel chair to stare at the ceiling. Billy had posters of his favorite bands, all plastered up there the way some people might have stuck glowing-in-the-dark stars or Fathead decals of oceanic scenes.

A moment later, Billy came back into the living room area with his hands behind his back. Judging by the huge grin on his face, she knew he was holding her present and he was enjoying this. He moved to stand in front of her, hand still hidden behind him.

“First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, he shouted as he gave a bow not low enough for her to spy her gift.

“Secondly, I know the team are planning to surprise you with a party tomorrow and you already figured out their scheme, but tonight on the eve of your big day, I wanted to give you something.”

He reached, holding out a precisely wrapped rectangular box about the size of a box one might put a fancy pen in. The paper was bright pink with purple and sparkling silver stripes and a glittery, fluorescent pink bow on top. The box felt heavy in her hands and she instantly feared he had gotten her something breakable. Amelia carefully laid the box in her lap, as Billy moved to sit on the bean bag next to her. He looked almost like he was vibrating, though she sensed he was nervous.

“Happy Birthday, Mia.”

She leaned, giving him a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet.”

She smiled.

“Just the same.”

She let out a breath and then moved to removing first the pretty bow, and then the carefully done paper. Inside, there was a little wooden box with MIA engraved on it. If One knew that Billy had gotten her something personalized, he would probably lay square eggs.

“Open it.”

“Pardon?”

Billy, looking more nervous than excited at this point, nudged his chin towards the present.

“It’s a box. Open it.”

“Bossy.”, she teased as she checked to see a small groove for lifting the lid.

She let the hinge swing open to reveal a brand new, shiny rosary laying in a velvet-lined bed. The chain holding the rosary together was a coppery-color with beautiful wooden beads with copper inlays at the crucifix, Mysteries, and Our Father points. It reminded her of her mother’s rosary, tucked in the FIVE box One kept locked at all times. Looking up, she could see Billy gently biting his lower lip as he watched her face.

“How?”

“You’ve mentioned how you miss your mum’s old rosary, and you described it for me that one night when I asked what it looked like. I couldn’t find one exactly like it, but… I saw this one a while back, when we were traveling through Guatemala, and it struck me as being a lot like your mum’s so I bought it. Been tricky keeping it hidden. Is it alright? I wasn’t totally sure about this.”

Unable to speak, Amelia tugged Billy forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. She tried to make it clear she appreciated the gift, and more than that, how much attention he had paid her and how much he worked to remember what she had told him, in order to remember this. She wanted him to understand that she loved the gift and that it was perfect.

“Thank you.”, she whispered as they both panted for breath.

“I’m glad you like it.”

She clutched it close to her heart, smiling up at him.

“It’s Our lady of the Rosary, here.”, she pointed to the center bead, between the first mystery and the circular bulk of the rosary.

“My mom’s had her too, on the one side. On the other, it had an image of one of her favorite saints.”

Billy carefully turned the bead over, looking closely.

“It looks like a flower.”

Amelia nodded.

“Monja Blanca, National flower of my mom’s homeland.”

Billy smiled up at her, gently reaching to brush some hair away from her forehead.

“It’s beautiful, Billy. Thank you.”

“I just thought, since you can’t have your mum’s, this would be the next best thing. To have one like hers, from where hers came from.”

Amelia leaned, letting her forehead rest against Billy’s shoulder as he kissed her temple. Outside of her the dinner table at her mom’s little New York apartment, Amelia did not think she had ever felt so loved.

“I love it, Billy. And I love you.”

He smiled, his cheeks glowing pink.

“Right back at you, Mia. _Always_.”


End file.
